


sunshine in your smile

by swimmingfools



Series: ☀︎ summer of soonseok ☀︎ [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Explicit Language, Flowers, Fluff, Language of Flowers, M/M, Magic, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Woozi's an asshole but he gets better, this is really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-16 07:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11249256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimmingfools/pseuds/swimmingfools
Summary: Lee Seokmin has never really hated much of anything, but he absolutelydespisesSaturdays.Kwon Soonyoung says he likes a lot of things, but it’s no secret that he absolutelylovesSaturdays.soulmate au where the flower buds that you're born with open up to determine your future





	1. the problem with saturdays (and why they're the best)

**Author's Note:**

> the summer of soonseok has begun

Lee Seokmin has never really hated much of anything, but he absolutely _despises_ Saturdays.

Now, don’t get him wrong, Seokmin loves his job – there is something simply fulfilling about forging bonds with people through the language of flowers. However, be it sons and daughters forgetting birthdays, or woeful husbands trying to find a meaningful gift to hightail them out of the doghouse with their spouses, Saturdays always worked out to be the most stressful day of the week. All this considered, he’d be lying if he said the stories aren’t worth it.

His favourite stories are always the soulmate ones, of course.

How could they not be? It’s the closest thing to magic that humankind will ever get to experience – one might even call it _actual_ magic if less familiar with the concept. Seokmin didn’t know how else to explain it, the way soulmarks littered the wrists of humans from the moment they were born, an individual flower for each individual soul. Personal soulmarks were the correct term for them, and it was a popular theory that these flowers represented the ‘true inner essence of one’s soul’ or whatever magazine editors could try and spin. And thus began the intense studies of flower meanings across the world, its foundations weaving its ways into the classrooms of young impressionable minds, a mandatory class that only served to instill hope and wonder into children.

Needless to say, it was Seokmin’s favourite class back in school.

Seokmin, who had never been particularly scholarly, had become the walking encyclopedia for soulmarks and their meanings. Ever since he had been told that he was gifted with the sunshine in his smile, he had made sure to find the sunshine in _other_ kids’ smiles, delighting everyone he knew with flattering facts about their personal soulmark. Or even their partner’s soulmark, if they so wished.

Ah yes, the partner soulmark. As if the higher powers had wanted to carve humanity’s path to true love in the most explicit way possible, there would come a fixed time in one’s life when they presented with their partner’s soulmark. Turning 18-years-old was a monumental event, in which every individual would wait until midnight to find on their wrist an additional bud representing their partner’s personal soulmark. A bud that would only bloom once you spoke to your soulmate for the first time, given that they were also of age.

When the clock struck 12 on the night of Seokmin’s birthday, he instinctively knew that the pleated dark green leaves on his wrist were those of the unbloomed heliotrope. _‘Eternal Love’_ is their meaning, and it’s so sweet and pure and Seokmin should have been thrilled but instead, he was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

Seokmin had never seen a heliotrope soulmark in his entire life.

He remembers crying into the arms of his gardenia-clad boyfriend at the time. “I’m sorry, I’m not _your_ yellow tulip.” Because fate was cruel, and they had wrongfully thought they passed half the battle nearly a year earlier when Jun presented with a yellow tulip bud that seemed to perfectly match Seokmin’s. Who else, right?

Wrong. Of course life would not be so kind to them, and it was a painful goodbye for the two of them the morning after their last night as a couple. There was no way they could possibly stay together, as who in their right minds would choose another over their soulmate? They stayed in contact, but things could never go back to the way they used to be.

That was a Saturday as well.

It’s only his second year working at the family shop, but he’s already met an unimaginable amount of interesting people with different lives and different stories. The flowers themselves seemed to dance with life, rooted in a cheerful environment. And yes, Seokmin can confidently confirm that he is very content with where he is in life, despite choosing not to go to university. More than anything, it’s just _so_ satisfying to see the expressions on people’s faces once they’ve received the flowers they’ve asked for, especially if they’re joyful ones. And he’s happy to be surrounded by pretty flowers all day and evening, their natural soothing effect never once failing to bring a smile to his face.

Which is why when an angry little man slams open the storefront door looking ready to kill, one could say that Seokmin is a little taken aback. The florist barely has enough time to size him up, but he’s fairly sure the man only reaches his ankles, and the bubblegum pink hair does nothing to help how young he really looks.

“Give me your most expensive and exquisite arrangement of blue hyacinths in the quickest amount of time possible,” Bubblegum grits, his tone of voice leaving no room for disagreement.  

“Um, excuse me... Sir?” _Where are your parents?_ Seokmin has to bite his tongue to prevent him from saying anything that might further upset the man, but he’s not exactly alright with some 12-year-old disrespecting him in his own damn store.

“Was I not clear? I know you guys work cheap, but that’s no excuse for stupidity and bad customer service.” Underlying Bubblegum’s condescendence is the hint of a Busan accent, and Seokmin wonders if he’s playing it up to sound more intimidating.

Whether or not he is, it’s working just a teensy tiny bit.

Nevertheless, the sweater Bubblegum’s wearing in no way aids in Seokmin’s hope to take him seriously, the long sleeves falling over his hands and making him look even more like a lost but murderous middle-schooler. “I need a bouquet of blue hyacinths, and quickly,” He reiterates each word slowly as if he’s getting more and more agitated by the second and Seokmin, who is admittedly a bit alarmed, nods before stumbling into the back of the shop.

It’s his second specialty after flower meanings – making bouquets. Perhaps it was just years of practice, but Seokmin had a knack for making the most beautiful of arrangements with the simplest of flowers and the vaguest of instructions. So he’s efficiently quick, and after gathering up enough hyacinths for a bouquet, Seokmin walks back out to where the customer stands still as visibly impatient as he was when Seokmin left. He makes a move to give them over and the young man reaches out a hand to receive them, but the loud trill of a ringtone disrupts the interaction. Bubblegum lets out an irritated huff, pulling back his hand and reaching into his pocket to slide out his cell phone. Seokmin finds it astonishing how quickly the man’s face seems to soften at the first glance of his caller ID, and how nearly _affectionate_ he sounds when he answers the call.

 _‘His soulmate,’_ Seokmin acknowledges, awkwardly slumping back as the hyacinths in his grip are completely ignored. He lays them on the table gently after a few moments, recognizing that this call would not be over soon.

“Cheollie, aren’t you supposed to be working right now?” The man begins, and Seokmin tries his best to tune him out, not wanting to intrude on the conversation. Yes, there were even soulmates in the universe for people like _him._

Honestly, nobody legitimately knows how this soulmate business originally started. Allegedly, it originated back when humans were in their most primal form, intricate cave paintings having illustrated its meaning in some way or another ( _what?_ It’s not like he had once actually paid attention in history class), and ever since then everyone just accepted it as another societal norm. There is another person for everyone on the planet, just as the sun rises in the east and how he pours his milk into his bowl before his cereal and how the guy standing in front of him is a Class A Dick. Simple as that, and Seokmin was patiently awaiting for the day he’d find them.  

He glances longingly at the marks on his wrist as the man speaks on the phone, sighing. ‘ _Someday,’_ He thinks, pulling his sleeve back down. The pink-haired man appears to be done with his phone call, and Seokmin picks the flowers back up.

The man shakes his head. “I’ve gotta go right now. Can I send someone to pick them up tomorrow?” Bubblegum’s being civil all of a sudden, and Seokmin nods because he isn’t about to argue with someone who looks vaguely like a fairy, size included. Everyone knew how much of a bitch Tinkerbell could be when she wanted to.

“S-sure, just leave your name, number, and order,” Seokmin fumbles as he grabs his notebook from a stack of vaguely organized clippings and manuals. The man taps his finger on the counter in impatience, and Seokmin feels all his 20 years of training – 21, if you count his mother’s whispering when he was still inside the womb –  couldn’t have prepared him for a customer like this. He damn near blushes as he knocks over his pencil holder in an attempt to grab a writing utensil, and he can practically feel the judgement radiating off the customer in jumbo-sized waves.

 “I don’t have time for this,” the man mutters as he rips the notebook from his hand and pulls a fountain pen from his breast pocket – _of course_ he’s the kind of guy to have a fountain pen in his breast pocket – and jots down his information in vexingly neat handwriting. He tosses the notebook back before leaving the store without so much as a goodbye. Seokmin glances down at the writing: 

_Lee Jihoon, 02-017-5260  
Blue Hyacinths _

Seokmin looks back and forth from his notebook to the moping blue hyacinths, and further concludes that Saturdays are the actual worst.

 

 

 

Kwon Soonyoung says he likes a lot of things, but it’s no secret that he absolutely _loves_ Saturdays.

It’s the only day of the week where he doesn’t have set obligations, so he can do whatever the fuck he wants, whenever the fuck he wants. Sometimes these days are spent out with friends or in the dance studio, but other times, like today, Soonyoung opts instead to stay home and marathon television after a long week. He’s perfectly comfortable until he gets a text from Mingyu, informing him that he is _very_ late for their meet up, and that he should hurry before Minghao decides he wants to go home more than he wants to see him.

Soonyoung sighs, untangling himself from the heap of blankets he'd been laying in and begrudgingly trotting off to get dressed. He'd usually ignore texts like this because he sees Mingyu way too much already, but he hasn't seen Minghao since he left for China to visit his family, and he'd like to catch up just a little bit before Minghao decides he'd rather ‘reacquaint himself’ with Mingyu.

_Gross._

Soonyoung swats that thought out of his head as quickly as it came, pulling on his shoes and starting his trek towards the café Mingyu had insisted they go to because according to him, they had pastries he was willing to die for.

Pushing through the front door of the establishment, he spots the two of them in a corner booth. The first thing he notices is a mass of silver hair that he immediately recognizes as Minghao. Soonyoung’s inner voice itches to ask how long it will be until the rest of his hair falls out, but he values his life quite dearly, so he instead settles on later telling Minghao that it suits him nicely.  

“Hey!” Soonyoung calls out, approaching the two soulmates and pulling Minghao into a hug. His friend hugs him back and Soonyoung can feel the way his muscles contract when he pulls away so he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I see you’ve been working out,” he pulls an exaggerated wink and snickers at the pure look of disgust on Minghao’s face, as well the sputter of protest Mingyu gives as he sips his juice box in the corner. He can see the way the yellow rose on Mingyu’s wrist glows a soft golden colour, the way personal soulmarks do as a sign of protectiveness. In actuality, they glowed for just about anything that had to do with one’s soulmate, but Soonyoung has known Mingyu long enough to take it as a warning. He understands the sign to back off and settles down in the booth, only to watch the glow fade.

“‘Gyu, you get jealous so easily,” Soonyoung puffs his cheeks out and leans back in his seat, raising an eye at the way the both of them blushed at his comment. “Oh for Pete’s sake,” Soonyoung bangs his head backward and gestures wildly at the two of them in exasperation, “You guys have been mated for _two years,_ not two weeks. Act like it.”

Soonyoung still remembers the anxiety he felt as they sat silently on his living room couch, waiting for the clock to hit 12. The corny laugh track emitting from the living room television did not much more than act as background noise, as everyone was focused on Mingyu and Minghao's wrists. Their hands had been clasped together nervously, because fate was cruel, and they could be destined for others. Once the clock finally struck midnight, Minghao was reluctant to speak to Mingyu, understandably worried about what could happen.

_In a world with seven billion people, how often was it that your high school boyfriend turned out to be your soulmate?_

When he eventually bit the bullet and asked Mingyu to pass the _cheetos_ of all things, the room briefly lit up as their marks glowed, signifying that they were destined for each other just as they had hoped. They had stuttered awkwardly after the fact, Mingyu teary-eyed and blubbering – Minghao too, though he would vehemently deny such a thing occurring any time the subject would later be brought up. Whatever the case, Soonyoung and anyone else in the room at the time could've seen that they were happy. It was sweet.

“How was China?” Soonyoung asks Minghao, the younger man immediately launching into a description of events that took place on his trip in varying detail. Though a genuine question, Soonyoung finds himself tuning out as Minghao launches into a rant of the demolition of his favourite childhood playground; he knows he’ll hear it at least three times over anyway. Mingyu clenches his teeth as if he’s already heard it twice.

Soonyoung remembers when he used to be envious of the two of them, upset that they had found each other even before their marks had fully formed when his own had yet to bloom. Now, he simply finds them amusing; they're in love, and Soonyoung is indescribably happy for them. After all, it was extremely rare for mates to find each other so quickly. Some even _died_ without finding their other half, the second bud on their wrist failing to ever bloom.

Sometimes, he thinks he’ll be one of them.  

Soonyoung thinks of his own unbudded yellow tulip, and then back to the ‘Flower Meanings’ unit in his mandatory high school soulmate class. He barely scraped by with a passing grade, only ever bothering to remember the meaning of the yellow tulip that would belong to his other half:  

‘ _Sunshine in one’s smile_.’

Soonyoung has yet to find the person with a smile that could light up a room, but it doesn’t stop him from looking. Even now, his eyes flit discreetly to the exposed wrists in the room, trying to spot the yellow tulip and the unbudded heliotropes. He squints at one girl in the distance, noticing a glimpse of yellow on her wrist and if only he could take a closer--

“–ON SOONYOUNG. EARTH TO SOONYOUNG.”

Ah, fuck. Soonyoung immediately returns his attention to an uncharacteristically concerned Minghao, something that the dancer hates much more than an angry or irritated Minghao, because he knows it means that he looks vulnerable enough to deserve the boy’s pity.  “Did you hear anything that I just said?” Though accusatory, the question is clearly laced with worried undertones and Soonyoung wants it _gone_ as soon as possible.

“Don’t you start,” he murmurs, raising a hand to signal a ready order to the waiter. Minghao, aware of his sensitivity to the topic, only purses his lips. And Mingyu, with a fundamental lack in understanding of the most basic of social cues, looks ready to push into the subject but Minghao presses his thumb into his soulmark, a silent form of communication. He gets the idea, backing down as soon as he’s told. Alternatively, he changes the topic of conversation.

“Soon, before I forget, would you mind doing me a favour?” Soonyoung falters as he finishes giving his order to the waiter, startled at the prospect of doing yet another favour for his junior. The last time he did a favour for the kid, he ended up on the Starbucks blacklist at every location across the city.

He still doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Mingyu, if this involves an incriminating game of strip poker again, it’s. not. happening.”

“That was _one time._ ”

“Are you able to count?”

“ _Two times._ "

"..."

" _Three times._ But this favour is much simpler! Besides, it wouldn’t technically be for me,” Mingyu is pouting now, but Soonyoung has long been immune to his puppylike looks. “It would be for Jihoon.” Soonyoung visibly startles, and Mingyu smirks.

_‘Hook, line, and sinker.’_

“That’s playing dirty, 'Gyu, and you know it.” Nobody tries to cross the pink-haired menace, not even Minghao (to an extent). But Mingyu, the little shit, got away with _way_ too much. Holding the privileged title as the Devil’s step-brother, Mingyu could probably pinch Jihoon’s cheeks and at most get a scowl. Soonyoung on the other hand. . .

He shivers as he starts to think of all the terrible things that Jihoon could possibly want him to do. What if he wanted him to rob a bank or something? Not that he had any need to do so, but Jihoon was the type of guy to do it for ‘funsies’ or whatever. He was too young to go to jail. Oh God, who would tell his mother that he loved her? Who would feed his ironically-named striped fish, Spotty? Granted, he didn’t actually _have_ a fish but he was _planning_ to get one, and now he would be stuck to rot in a jail cell in the middle of nowhere on Jeju-do or something, all because Jihoon wanted something--

“He needs someone to pick up flowers for him.”

\--done.

“Eh?”

“It’s his and Cheol’s anniversary on Monday. He’s planning this big hurrah or whatever, because Cheol is always jokingly complaining that Jihoon never throws him celebrations. And y'know my bro, he’s got a big ego for this kind of stuff. So he also arranged for a fancy bouquet of blue hyacinths, which is so cute even if it’s kind of cliché because that’s Cheol’s soulmark flower, but it’s Jihoon so it’s adorable, right?” _No, it isn’t._ Soonyoung glances to Minghao, who calmly but expertly grips Mingyu’s hand and urges him to get to the point. “But yeah, I want to spend as much time as possible with Hao tomorrow, so there's no way I can pick up the bouquet. Would you be able to go in place of me?”

Soonyoung hesitates because even though he loves the couple, he really needs to prepare his exhibition dance and he needs all the time he can get. The better he looks in front of the scouts, the higher chance he has of getting a gig straight out of college. He's about to voice these concerns to his junior, but then Mingyu speaks again and his plans are immediately rearranged: 

“I’ll pay you 170,000 won.”

“Count me in.” 

Now, if there’s one thing Soonyoung could Absolutely Fuck With in the Lee-Kim household, it would be the sheer amount of dough they were rolling in. 170,000 won to pick up a bouquet? That had to be more than the bouquet himself. It was certainly enough for his overdue phone bill. As he finds himself doing every so often, the broke college student thanks the heavens for their fated friendship.

Soonyoung further concludes that Saturdays are the absolute best.

 

 

 

Nothing ever really happens on Sundays.  

After a series of passive aggressive texts from Mingyu, Soonyoung gets out of bed at around 10AM and dresses himself to go to the flower shop. The hope that he could meet his soulmate any day now looms in the back of his mind as he pulls on a very unflattering pair of basketball shorts with his stained t-shirt, but he figures that if they're really destined to be with him they'll still appreciate how he looks when he's a bit bloated and unwilling to dress nicely.

He steps out of his apartment, double-checking the location Mingyu had sent him before heading in the direction of the flower shop. It's conveniently close, so Soonyoung doesn't have to spend his money on public transit, which is something he's always grateful for. After paying for this month’s rent, he barely has enough money to shit without worrying about the cost of the toilet paper he uses to wipe his ass.

 _‘Maybe if I do enough for Mingyu he'll get me a car,’_ he thinks. It would certainly be convenient for him, and Mingyu tended to get a bit frivolous with his gifts most of the time. Soonyoung remembers the time Mingyu had bought Minghao a _very_ expensive platinum bracelet for their recent second anniversary, and Minghao had not allowed it to even touch his skin before he closed the box and demanded he take it back. Sometimes Soonyoung thinks that if if it weren't for how stingy Minghao was, Mingyu would be painfully broke. It's one of the reasons why they work so well together.

In about 20 minutes, Soonyoung arrives at the shop. ‘ _Lee Flower Arrangements and Gifts_ ’ reads the pastel-coloured sign adorning the storefront, just flowery enough to be tasteful but not crowded enough to be tacky. 

A small bell rings when he pushes open the front door and a woman greets him, bowing politely.

“Hello there, welcome to Lee Flower Arrangements and Gifts! Are you a new customer, or have you come to pick something up?” She asks, a warm smile on her face. She's an older woman, but she has this distinct youthful glow to her that almost reminds Soonyoung of his own mother, but without the endless fretting over Soonyoung’s financial situation.

“Uh, I'm here to pick up an order for Lee Jihoon,” Soonyoung says, approaching the counter. She nods, looking for the note amongst a scattered pile of belongings. 

“Give me a second, dear. My son isn't the most organized man, though he does try his best.” Her voice is fond as she speaks of her child, and Soonyoung smiles.

“It's alright,” he assures, “I'm not really in a rush.” It’s a lie, but Soonyoung’s not about to rush a sweet woman who is only trying her best.

The woman lets out a quiet ‘aha!’ a few seconds later, and turns around, a small piece of notebook paper between her fingers. “The hyacinths, right?” She asks, and Soonyoung nods. She then moves to get the flowers, placing the note on the counter. Soonyoung picks up the paper, fiddling with it for a few moments as he looks around the small shop. 

Flowers of all kind surround him (not that he's surprised, he doesn't expect any less from a florist), and he looks around for heliotropes absentmindedly. Oddly enough, there's a small pot with the same purple flowers that adorn Soonyoung wrist set on the counter. They look healthy, it's clear that someone has been taking care of them, and Soonyoung smiles.

“Do you like those?” The shopkeeper’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and she walks back over to him, the bouquet of blue hyacinths in her hands. “They're my son’s favourite flower,” She says, her hand stroking over the leaves of the plant gently.

“They're very pretty.” Soonyoung replies. “They're actually my soulmark flower. Heliotropes, right?”

The woman nods to confirm his statement, a secretive smile on her face. “Yup. They're pretty uncommon, I'm surprised they caught your eye.” She wraps a blue ribbon around the stems of the flowers in her hand, covering them carefully in floral wrapping paper and handing them to Soonyoung. “Those will be 80,000 won, please.”  

Soonyoung gets his wallet out and hands her the requested amount of money and she takes it, giving him back his change. “Come back anytime!” She says, bowing again.

“I will,” he replies, waving goodbye to the the joyous woman. She waves at him before turning around to tend to another bouquet, and Soonyoung leaves the store, the little bell sounding in his wake.

 

 

 

“Who was that?” Seokmin asks, coming out of the back room, a pair of clippers in one hand and some freshly cut roses in the other. He places them on the counter next to his mother, who smirks.  

“A handsome young man came in to pick up those hyacinths,” His mother replies, smiling at him, though Seokmin can immediately tell there's something she isn't telling him.

“Was it the tiny kid with the pink hair?” Seokmin asks, his mother shaking her head.

“No, it was a different one, he had black hair. He was definitely taller than the person you told me about, too,” She brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her smile growing a bit. Seokmin is a little concerned, because that look on his mom’s face usually means trouble.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asks, and the smile widens even further.

“You'll never believe what he told me earlier,” She says.

“What’d he say?” Though he loves his mother with all his heart, Seokmin has never been one for her flair for the dramatic, even if he himself inherited it.

“He asked about the heliotropes. Turns out they're his soulmark flower,” The smile morphs into an amused smirk, and Seokmin’s voice catches in his throat. 

“Are you being serious?” He finally chokes out, his hand coming up to rub his thumb over the mark on his inner arm almost self-consciously. His mother nods, Seokmin’s eyes widen. “Really?” Another nod.

The first thing that comes to mind is _‘maybe it's just a coincidence’_ , but he mentally smacks himself on the wrist for that. He _deserves_ to think optimistically about his soulmate.

“Did he say he'd come back?”

“He did,” His mother is clearly enjoying herself a lot in this moment, eyes alight with a teasing sparkle. Seokmin beams at her, reaching over to take her hand and squeeze it.

 “Are we hoping for the best?” She asks, because if there’s anybody as excited as Seokmin is about getting his soulmate, it’s definitely his sweet sweet mother.

“We definitely are.”

 

 

 

Seokmin _really_ hopes they don’t meet on a Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all,
> 
> so we're belle and fae, and we're here to enlighten your lives with a lil bit more soonseok this summer!! for reference sake, the meanings of our flowers came from [this site right here](http://www.almanac.com/content/flower-meanings-language-flowers) because we don't know anything about flower meanings but we know we love soonseok. 
> 
> if anyone is interested about the flower pairings of the characters mentioned so far:
> 
> seokmin - yellow tulip ("sunshine in your smile")  
> soonyoung - heliotrope ("eternal love")  
> jihoon - rhododendron ("DANGER")  
> seungcheol - blue hyacinth ("constancy of love" which suggests the present as well as the future)  
> minghao - begonia ("beware")  
> mingyu - yellow rose ("joy, friendship, promise of a new beginning")
> 
> we're really looking forward to this summer series! continuation will be based on feedback, so if people are interested to see a longer version of this fic (or anything else we happen to post) or any specific spin-offs (yes, even for other pairings), then we'll look into making it a reality. comments are always appreciated, so leave one if you'd like.we'be got a lot planned.
> 
> so let the games begin.


	2. in which jihoon is less of a dick than expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and 7 days is a long enough time for things to happen.

The following Monday, Seokmin puts on his nicest clothes.  
  
He's not sure when the boy with the heliotrope soulmark will come back, but he wants to be prepared. After putting on his favourite t-shirt, he changes it three times, and then puts it back on again. His roommate watches from afar, propping himself up with an elbow and using his free hand to shovel cereal into his mouth.  
  
"Did the last one look better?" Seokmin asks self-consciously, looking to Wonwoo through the mirror who seems to seriously consider the question for a moment before shrugging.  
  
"I don't care," Seokmin's concerned face scrunch turns into a glare, though Wonwoo has already stopped paying attention to him.    
  
"Wonwoo."  
  
"He's your soulmate, should it matter?" And Seokmin wants to argue but he can't because there's truth in Wonwoo's statement, so he settles for hanging the shirt back up on a hanger and tossing it back in his closet.  
  
Wonwoo coos at him mockingly. "There, that's a good boy," and Seokmin shivers because he doesn't want to hear those words from anybody but perhaps this mysterious stranger who very possibly might be his soulmate. He shrugs on a pair of jeans, flopping down on his own bed across the room from Wonwoo's.  "Anyway, if there's anyone who should be nervous about you meeting your soulmate, it's me." Wonwoo's busy stacking his cheerios on top of one another so he doesn't see the look of disbelief on Seokmin's face.  
  
"What?" Seokmin regrets ever saying hi to Wonwoo when he moved into the neighbourhood all those years ago. All that day has brought him is pain.  
  
"I'm just saying, once you meet the guy and fall in love or whatever, you'll probably want to move in with him. Or worse, you'll kick me out and I'll have to live on the streets because let's face it, I don't pay rent." It's true; the only reason he was still around was because of Seokmin's mom, who loved the boy. Ever since Wonwoo decided to join her book club, she was completely convinced that he could do no wrong. When his parents decided they wanted to travel the world and Wonwoo needed a place to stay for the length of his college education, she was the first one to offer up half of Seokmin's pea-sized room.  
  
"It's about time. I'm tired of having your lazy ass get the biggest serving at the dinner table. I'm her son!" Wonwoo isn't phased, having heard this rant a million times by now. Instead, he looks rather smug. "Besides, if you're really in need of a place, just knock on Chan's door. He'll be more than happy to offer you a place to stay." Seokmin watches the smile wipe off of his roommate's face, and he wonders if it's cruel that he doesn't feel bad at all.  
  
"You know I'm not about that kind of lifestyle."  
  
"Chan's your damn soulmate! Yet you refuse to even look at him ever since the night of his eighteenth birthday. Poor kid, I can still hear his ugly crying now," Seokmin cups his ear to his hand, squinting as if trying to listen out for the noise. Wonwoo chucks a pillow at him.  
  
"For the record, I was talking about begging for a place to stay," Seokmin bites back his comment about Wonwoo being a damn freeloader because he knows it's a sensitive topic. Wonwoo had all these... Morals, or whatever, and apparently dating Chan was one of them. Ever since that night, he'd been anti-soulmate. He's lucky that Chan is persistent. If it was Seokmin, he would've whooped his ass into the next century.  
  
But again, he doesn't say that because he's not about to ruin his day.  
  
"Whatever dude, don't wait up for me. I'll be staying at the shop late," Seokmin checks himself in the mirror, waving over his shoulder.  
  
Today's going to be his day, he can feel it.

 

Today was not his day.

Seokmin arrives home to Wonwoo literally sitting on the edge of his seat, anticipating his return. It’s silent as they stare at each other for what feels like a few minutes, before Wonwoo feels pressured enough to face the music. “So am I getting kicked out or what?” Seokmin lets the disappointment of the day wash away as a bubble of laughter erupts from his lips.

“Maybe tomorrow if I’m lucky.”

* * *

  
Soonyoung works his own part time job on Tuesdays.

His personal training job is nothing Soonyoung’s very attached to – just a means of bearing the expense of his broke-but-poppin’ lifestyle that he tries so hard to maintain. And he can’t complain, really. It was more than a blessing that the owner of the gym was Seungcheol himself, perhaps the only person who would accept the boy without even glancing at his résumé or his obvious lack of skill. What, with the decent salary that went with it, Hoshi was fairly sure his boss was the only thing keeping him from eviction. Besides, clients like Seungkwan always made his job feel less like work and more like he was doing a favour for a friend.

“YES, KWANKWAN, YOU’VE GOT IT. JUST A LITTLE BIT MORE JUST A LITTLE BIT – Kwankwan, you can’t just stop fuckin’ running when you feel like it.” Seungkwan’s face is as red as the chrysanthemum on his wrist, but Soonyoung holds the water bottle out of reach for the boy who stumbles to get it.

“I _felt_ like stopping four blocks ago; now I’m just _dying_!” Seungkwan articulates his sentences like the freshman theatre student he is, toppling onto the ground for added effect. Soonyoung crouches down to check his pulse.

“If my calculations are right – and you know they really are half the time – then your current heart rate is about… 155 bpm?” Soonyoung pats Seungkwan’s back who has now turned over to dry-heave, and gestures for passer-byers to continue as they slow down with concerned glances.

“Is that supposed to _mean_ something to me?!” If looks could kill, Soonyoung would already be in his coffin by now.

“Well yes, you’re nowhere close to being dead at this rate. . . In fact, I should be pushing you to go a bit harder,” he laughs as Seungkwan immediately scrambles back to his feet, setting back off with a steady pace. 

 

 

“Remind me why I’m doing this again,” Seungkwan has an arm laced over Soonyoung’s shoulder as they hobble back towards the gym, only minutes earlier having completely missed a dent in the sidewalk, causing the younger boy to twist his ankle.

“You say you want to feel your very best for when your soulmate returns from the States,” and Soonyoung hates how the words sound as they leave his own mouth because he doesn’t want it to be Seungkwan’s only motivator on his journey to total fitness. “By the way, I still think you look great as you are.”

Seungkwan slaps Soonyoung’s chest lightly. “I know what you’re thinking, but you don’t have to worry. I am _indeed_ extremely handsome,” Seungkwan says it accusingly, head raised in pride. Soonyoung chuckles, although slightly confused.

“So what’s the big deal?” Seungkwan shakes his head almost disapprovingly, exasperated by Soonyoung’s obliviousness. He doesn’t clue in. “I mean, if you’re happy and he’s happy...” He trails off, leaving Seungkwan to fill in the rest.

“Then what’s the point of exercising, even if I absolutely despise it?” They’ve arrived at the gym now, nodding at their receptionist Jisoo, who expertly assesses the situation and runs off to get an ice pack. Soonyoung sits Seungkwan down on a bench, elevating his ankle. He nods.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, why not? The confidence boost doesn’t hurt– I love going out on the street and having people frantically scan my wrist just to be disappointed that I’m obviously _not_ their soulmate. And my soulmate especially loves it too when I’m all up in here _feeling myself_ ,” Seungkwan sings the last two words in as best of an imitation of Beyoncé that he can do, and the trainer gestures for him to hurry it up because he knows there’s no stopping Seungkwan when he starts singing Queen B. Seungkwan gets the hint. “He thinks it’s _hot_ , basically, and I do too.” And Soonyoung practically deflates because he thought there would be… more.

“Are the three hours of crying really worth it? Every session I feel like I might have to drive you to the hospital.” Jisoo returns with the ice pack and first aid kit, tossing it over to Soonyoung who immediately gets to work. “Not that I mind. In fact, I’ll probably get paid for overtime if you do.”

At his own expense, Seungkwan laughs. “It’s useless to try and explain. Even the smallest of things seem huge with a soulmate. You wouldn’t understand,” and as if he immediately recognizes his mistake – he probably does, with the way Soonyoung pauses over Seungkwan’s ankle – he starts to backpedal. “I mean, you’ll understand once you find your soulmate, for sure.”

“Yeah right, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t find a heliotrope soulmark anywhere,” Soonyoung chuckles bitterly, and Seungkwan scoffs.

“You’re just not trying hard enough.” It hurts because he really has been, so much so that his eyeballs feel tired and he feels he might need glasses from how hard he’s been squinting at marks from a distance. “Have you seen heliotrope flowers anywhere? They say finding the flower itself can be an indicator of the person.”

“Of course I haven’t, I’m not stup…” Soonyoung trails off because something tugs at his brain. A memory of potted heliotropes that sat proudly at a storefront counter. His surprise must show on his face because Seungkwan ‘ _aha’s_ and claps his hands together in glee.

“Where? Where?!” Seungkwan bends over to shake Soonyoung’s shoulder in excitement of this possible discovery. Soonyoung gently pushes it away, though he can’t help the rosy pink that settles on his cheeks.

“Nosy brat.” Silence. A sigh. “ _‘Lee Flower Arrangements and Gifts.’_ Apparently they belonged to the store owner's son. His favourite flower, she said.” For a moment, everything’s awkwardly quiet and Soonyoung wonders if he’s said something wrong but then:

“I always knew you’d end up gay!” Soonyoung almost chucks the ice pack at Seungkwan’s face but _hell_ , he did too. Soonyoung finishes up his work silently, a million too many thoughts coursing through his mind to respond. Seungkwan, with ever the train of thought, returns back to their previous topic of conversation. “Besides, now that I’m exercising, I'll have more stamina and that means I can last longer when–” Seungkwan starts before Soonyoung quickly cuts him off.

“Do me a favour and twist your other ankle on the way out.”

* * *

  
He doesn’t come on Wednesday either.

Not yet, anyway, but it’s 8PM and the store closes in an hour and Seokmin starts to sweat because who _delays_ meeting their soulmate? It’s completely out of the ordinary, and usually only seen with people who are anti-soulmate. Seokmin tries to prevent himself from thinking about the worst but gosh, he’s seen weirder things. He’s roommates with Wonwoo, and that’s enough for him to know that he would not be able to handle his own soulmate wanting nothing to do with him. He might die.

In his hand he clutches a crumpled but still legible sticky note from only a few days before.

 _Lee Jihoon, 02-017-5260_ _  
_ _Blue Hyacinths_

He’s fighting with himself, conflict brewing within him. He puts the piece of paper down.

Maybe tomorrow.

* * *

  
On Thursday, Seokmin finally caves and calls Jihoon. He's spent too long looking at the short, almost fairy-like man’s phone number, and figures he's got nothing to lose. Worst case scenario: Jihoon tells his potential-maybe-almost soulmate that he's a little creepy, but that's not too devastating. Seokmin can handle all that after they've met and the pretty boy his mom told him about is head over heels for him.

Seokmin may be getting way too excited for nothing, and maybe this guy isn't really his soulmate, but at the very least he'll have narrowed the pool of people bearing heliotrope soulmarks a little more. Not that it's even that large anyways. All the celebrities have roses, or carnations, or tulips as their marks, which Seokmin honestly thinks is faked, but it still bothers him a bit for a petty reason. It's like leaving out a specific horoscope because there are less people born in the time range statistically. He's never read anything about someone with heliotropes on their wrist, and he can't help but feel a little left out. It's dumb, but he's always been low-key salty about it.

“Why are you pouting?” Wonwoo’s deep voice cuts through his silent tirade quickly, and Seokmin narrows his eyes.

“I'm not pouting.” He huffs, crossing his arms. “I'm just thinking. Thinking is a perfectly normal activity.” Seokmin defends.

“Sure it is, but not for you.” Wonwoo says, and Seokmin promptly throws a pillow at him in retaliation.

“You're fucking rude, Jeon Wonwoo.”

“You love me, shut up.” The brunette responds, unfazed. “Seriously, though, what's on your mind, man?”

Seokmin sighs. “I'm trying to decide whether or not to call my alleged soulmate’s friend and ask if he really does have a soulmark that matches mine. Maybe get his name, too.”

“Do it, bro. YOLO.” Wonwoo replies. Seokmin launches another pillow at him.

“Don't you fucking ‘yolo' me, asshole. That's a dead meme.” Wonwoo laughs at him.

“Fine, I won't, but seriously, Seok’. It's not really a big thing if you don't think about it too much. It's not like you're asking something really personal. You just wanna know if you have a proper shot with this guy.”

Seokmin looks down at his hands that are clasped in his lap. “I just don't want him to think I’m weird.”

Wonwoo crosses the room and sits down next to Seokmin on his bed, putting an arm over his shoulder. “Dude, it'll be fine. Don't stress too much about it. You're someone who lives in the moment, so just do this and see how it goes. If he is your soulmate, I'm sure he'll appreciate your boldness. Some people even find that shit attractive.”

Seokmin hits him for the cheeky look on his face before speaking. “Fine, I'll call his friend, but only if you call Chan.” He can feel Wonwoo tense.

“No.”

“Yes. He literally called my mom today and cried to her about how fucking mean you are. Text him, for God’s sake. He just wants you as a friend at the very least, and you're flaking out on him.” Wonwoo seems to shrink a bit in his seat. “Please? My mom said he sounded really upset. It's the least you could do. I'll call Jihoon while you call him.”

Wonwoo looks like he's about to say no again, but instead he drops his head and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Okay,” He says. “I'll call Chan.” Wonwoo stands up and walks out of the room. Seokmin hears him begin to speak outside in the hallway and takes that as his cue to tune the older man out. As much as Seokmin would love to eavesdrop, it doesn't feel right when their conversation will likely be very personal.

Seokmin retrieves his own phone from his small night stand, and inputs Jihoon’s number carefully. He taps the ‘call’ button, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

The phone rings for an alarmingly long time before the ringing stops and a voice replaces it.

 _“Hello?”_ A man he assumes is Jihoon questions.

“Uh, hi?” Seokmin says awkwardly.

 _“Who is this?”_ Maybe-Jihoon asks.

“This may sound a little weird, but I'm the guy from the flower shop you went to a little while ago. You bought some blue hyacinths and got your friend to pick them up the next day.”

 _“Okay. . .”_ The man's voice is clearly suspicious, but he doesn't hang up, so Seokmin takes it as his cue to continue.

“I have two really quick questions and you really don't have to answer if you don't want to, but if you did, that'd be really helpful,” Seokmin continues. “Let me give you a bit of context, though. My mom, well, uh, my mom thinks your friend might be my soulmate, and I just wanted to call and ask about his soul mark and also his name.”

The line goes silent for a few seconds, and Seokmin holds his breath.

 _“Are you sure you have the right person?”_ Maybe-Jihoon’s voice is laced with a lack of amusement.

“Yeah, I'm sure. Your friend has heliotropes for a soulmark, right?”

 _“Yeah.”_ Seokmin’s heart skips a beat. Half the battle was done. The man his mom spoke to really did have the proper soulmark to match his. Now for the other half.

“Are the closed flowers yellow tulips?”

The silence returns and Seokmin waits with bated breath for Maybe-Jihoon to reply.

_“I'm pretty sure they are, yeah.”_

Seokmin almost squeals in delight. They're a match!

His spirits are high, and he begins to thank Probably-Jihoon profusely.

 _“Calm down. You said you wanted to know his name, right? I'll tell you if you stop with the thanking.”_ Seokmin shuts up immediately, eager to hear the name of the man that might be his for the rest of his life. _“Good. Thanks.”_ Probably-Jihoon says. _“My friend with that soulmark is named Kwon Soonyoung. I hope he's your match, man.”_ A quiet grin spreads across Seokmin’s face.

_Soonyoung._

“Thanks again.” Seokmin says for what may be the 20th time in their 5 minute conversation.

 _“God, if you're this nice all the time, Soonyoung’s gonna love you.”_  He sounds exasperated, but Seokmin’s smile just widens even further, a feat he hadn't even thought possible.

“Okay, I'll stop thanking you now. You're a good guy. Have a good night.”

 _“It's the middle of the fucking day, but thanks.”_ Comes the reply, and Seokmin chuckles, apologizing and saying goodbye.

He puts his phone on the table again and lays back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with what he's sure is a dopey look on his face.

_Kwon Soonyoung._

Friday passes by uneventfully for the most part. He had been feeling a bit under the weather in the morning, and his mother took his shift at the flower shop for the day. Wonwoo was at home with him, as usual, texting someone while Seokmin read an article about endangered animals on his phone.

Seokmin doesn't think much of Wonwoo’s texting until he looks up and sees the uncharacteristically giddy smile on his face. It's small, but that doesn't change how weirdly out of place the look is on Wonwoo’s indifferent-or-smirking face.

“Who're you texting?” Seokmin asks, voice teasing as he leans onto his elbows to try and see Wonwoo’s phone screen. The elder moves the device out of his line of sight, but not before Seokmin reads the contact name.

“Channie?” He asks, a mischievous smile on his face. “I take it your conversation went well?” The fact that the contact name has a grand total of three hearts following it makes Seokmin all the more suspicious.

Wonwoo isn't saying anything, but he's also not looking at Seokmin, and the tips of his ears are getting red.

“Tell me why the fuck you're acting like a blushing virgin, Jeon Wonwoo, or I swear to God I'll call Chan up myself and hear it from him.” Seokmin threatens, reaching for his phone. Wonwoo’s hand darts out and grabs his wrist, pulling it away from the phone. “Are you gonna talk?”

Wonwoo nods in a way that's much too solemn for the situation, turning to half look at Seokmin.

“Yeah, I'll talk.” He grumbles, crossing his arms. Wonwoo then proceeds to mumble what he's allegedly trying to tell Seokmin.

“Louder. Can't hear you.” Seokmin prompts. He refuses to let this go.

Wonwoo fucking _pouts,_ sighing. “Fine.” He bites his lip briefly before starting again. “Your mom was right, Chan was really upset. He yelled at me for like, 15 minutes, then cried for a little while.”

Seokmin frowns. Chan is the baby of their friend group (though he adamantly denies being a baby since he is 19), and hearing about him crying doesn't sit well with Seokmin. Nonetheless, he lets Wonwoo continue without saying anything. Wonwoo takes a deep breath before continuing. “He begged me to just give him a chance, see where it goes, and I… Well... I agreed.”

Seokmin’s jaw drops open. “You're fucking with me, aren't you?”

Wonwoo looks so sheepish, and he smiles at Seokmin. “For once, I'm not. We're gonna go on a date.”

Seokmin swears his jaw is ready to detach and physically hit the floor. “Seriously?” Wonwoo nods. “What happened to ‘not being about that’, or whatever the fuck you always say about dating Chan?”

Wonwoo drums his fingers on his leg, silent for a few moments. “I don't know. I guess I just got tired of resisting something that could be good for me. Plus, Chan’s really, uh, filled out since last year.” Wonwoo’s voice is quiet and he sounds slightly terrified, but Seokmin  couldn't be happier. Wonwoo flustered, though not unheard of to him, is a rare and amusing sight, and Seokmin is going to savour it while it lasts.

“Fuck, man. Congrats. I hope it works out.” He hugs his best friend tightly, though Wonwoo still seems too embarrassed to look him in the eyes

“Thanks.” His friend mumbles, the phone in his hand buzzing. Wonwoo smiles when he sees the message, and Seokmin, moves to leave him alone, but not without teasing him a little bit first.

“Tell your boyfriend I say ‘hi’.”

Seokmin luckily manages to get out the door before the shoe Wonwoo throws across the room can hit him.

 

A few hours later, they're watching a movie on the couch, and Wonwoo speaks up.

“What happened with that guy you called?” Wonwoo asks.

“It went really well,” Seokmin smiles at Wonwoo. “We have matching marks and he has a really pretty name.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “You would've said that no matter what his name was. You're clearly a little biased.” Seokmin whacks his shoulder, narrowing his eyes. “Ow, okay, okay. What's his name? I'm sure it's fucking beautiful.”

“Much better,” Seokmin smirks, satisfied. “And his name is Soonyoung.”

“Nice, Seok’,” Wonwoo says, and he sounds sincerely happy for Seokmin. “I hope he's the one.”

Seokmin smiles at Wonwoo warmly, wrapping his arms around the older man and squeezing him tightly.

“Thank you.”

* * *

  
It's another Saturday when Soonyoung decides to return to the shop.

Saturdays tend to be luckier days for him, so if the son of the florist really is his soulmate, maybe he'll be able to meet him on a day where he's got fate on his side.  
  
He decides that it may be in his best interests to dress a little more nicely (thinking back on it, he really doesn't want his potential life partner to see him in something stained and/or ripped), so he gets a pair of nice jeans and a clean black t-shirt and puts them on. After deeming himself presentable, he gets into the elevator outside his apartment and mentally prepares himself for what may happen today.  
  
Once he's reached the ground floor, he's considerably peppier, having effectively convinced himself that even if he does royally fuck this up, his soulmate will still deal with him if only because they're destined to be together.  
  
He really just hopes that the man who works at the flower shop is, firstly, his soulmate, and secondly, as excited as he is about this whole thing. Some of his friends are a little doubtful of the whole soulmate 'system', but Soonyoung has always been very optimistic. He just wants to spend as much of his life as possible happy and in love.  
  
As he's walking down the street, the thoughts he'd been trying so hard to ignore start popping up in his head.

What if his soulmate thinks he's ugly, or something? Soonyoung isn't conventionally attractive, sure, but he still thinks he looks hot as fuck. If this guy really is his soulmate, he will, too. Hopefully. Maybe. Ah fuck, maybe he should’ve gotten a haircut or something.

The second worry is on the subject of how Soonyoung is very talkative. What if he finds Soonyoung annoying and doesn't want to deal with him going on about dance, or his friends, or the older woman in his building who desperately wants to set him up with her granddaughter. This particular fear is settled by the anomaly of Minghao and Mingyu, who, despite differences in their levels of talkativeness, are grossly in love.

Soonyoung’s largest worry by far, though, is about whether or not mysterious-tulip-guy actually believes in having a soul bond at all. One of his friends ended up being bonded to someone who was almost entirely anti-soulmate, and it seemed rather torturous.

It is at this point that Soonyoung begins to panic a bit, because there is literally nothing he can tell himself to coax himself out of the corner he's been driven into, so, naturally, he calls Jisoo.

The phone rings for a little while before Jisoo’s soft voice flows through the receiver, and Soonyoung sighs in relief.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey, man. Do you have time for a quick pep talk, because I'm literally about to die.” That statement should get Jisoo concerned enough to get him talking. Soonyoung knows him well.

 _“What?”_ Jisoo’s concerned tone is evident.

“Assure me that my soulmate won't reject me on sight as soon as I walk into his store.”

_“You met your soulmate? When? Why didn't you call me?”_

“Well,” Soonyoung trails off. “I haven't technically met him yet, but that's just a small detail.”

Jisoo sighs audibly. _“And you're worried he'll be one of those antis, right?”_

“Right,”

 _“Soonyoung, take a few deep breaths. Everything is gonna be okay.”_ Soonyoung hadn't even noticed that his breathing had picked up a bit, taking deep breaths like Jisoo told him to. It calms him down just a little. _“Good, good. Now, Kwon Soonyoung, stop being pessimistic. Your soulmate is gonna love you, even if it takes him some time to get there. Just have faith.”_

Soonyoung sometimes thinks Jisoo is _too_ optimistic, but he doesn't say anything. “I'm trying, but what if he doesn't like me?” Soonyoung swears he can _hear_ Jisoo shaking his head.

 _“Sometimes you have to take risks, Soonyoung. Put yourself out there. I hate saying this, but he might not be your soulmate at all, so don't psych yourself out too much.”_ Soonyoung knows Jisoo is right, but it's not a nice thought. He's missed this guy so many times. Maybe they aren't meant to be at all.

“Okay. Thank you, Jisoo.”

 _“Good luck. Call me if he ends up being your soulmate, alright? Or if you just wanna complain.”_ Soonyoung chuckles. Jisoo always was a great friend.

After agreeing to call Jisoo back, Soonyoung hangs up the phone, taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders back. He then continues his trek to the flower shop.

In a few minutes, he's arrived. The store lights seem to blink at him mockingly, as though they had seen him freak out. He has the odd urge to flip them off, but refrains. If this guy really is his soulmate, Soonyoung doesn't want their first meeting involving Soonyoung silently telling an inanimate object to fuck off.

He steps inside the shop, the little bell dinging as the door opens.

“Coming!” Calls a voice that sounds _distinctly_ male from the back room, and Soonyoung gulps, nervous. The dancer moves to lean against the counter, glancing at the small pot of heliotropes that look as healthy as ever.

“How can I help you?” The cheery voice is suddenly much closer, and Soonyoung jumps a little, looking up sheepishly. He catches the gaze of the tall man before him, and he's immediately struck by how attractive he is. The dark haired man looks like a wet dream on legs, and his words get stuck in his throat.

“Sir, are you alright?” He asks, giving him a small, slightly worried smile.

“I am.”

With that, Soonyoung feels a weird tingling coming from his wrist. He looks down and all he sees is a bright glow.

The man across from him looks just as stunned, staring at his wrist where the heliotropes are finally blooming.

Once more, Soonyoung can't speak, caught up in staring at his mark as the light fades.

 

That really just happened.

 

“I'm Seokmin,” says the man, reaching out for his hand. Soonyoung looks up and beams at him, taking Seokmin’s larger hand in his and shaking it.

“Soonyoung. It's nice to finally meet you.” Seokmin smiles, bright and pretty. His flower really does suit him.

“The feeling is mutual.”

* * *

  
It is on this day that Soonyoung can firmly say, with finality, that Saturdays are the absolute best.

And Seokmin, well, Seokmin no longer hates Saturdays all that much anymore.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading "sunshine in your smile"! 
> 
> we know y'all had to wait a while for the ending, but we both had a lot on our plates. we're happy with the ending though, and really enjoyed writing this fic. we hope you do too.
> 
> stay tuned for more seoksoon one shots! 
> 
> love,
> 
> fae and belle (or fabelle, for short... like fable, haha get it)


	3. of lilacs and candytufts (epilogue 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wonwoo’s kind of a fuckin’ masochist and Chan’s grown up since the last time Wonwoo’s seen him.

“You ungrateful piece of shit!”

Now, Wonwoo would consider himself a pretty chill guy. In fact, he would be the first to say that there are very few things in the world he dislikes. But being woken up from a very nice nap by his angry screeching mother? Definitely one of those things.

Oh wait, that’s not his mother.

It’s Seokmin.

“For the fifth time, Wonwoo! _You’re going to be late!_ ” Wonwoo, perfectly set on ignoring his roommate and drifting back to sleep, suddenly feels alert. _Wait, what?_

“I don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talking about, Seok. It’s a Saturday, and you know I don’t do shit on Saturdays.” His voice is muffled from the pillow that he still hasn’t lifted his face from. He can’t see Seokmin but he can feel the frustration radiate off the man.

“How the fuck did you--” Seokmin groans, whispering under his breath. Wonwoo hears him walk across the room, pulling his blankets off of him. He squints up at the light, raising a hand to block it. “Wonwoo, you have a goddamned date today and I will kill you if you’re late.” 

A date?

_Oh, right._

Seokmin forcefully pulls him up, Wonwoo rubbing his eyes and squinting, picking up his glasses and putting them on. “I’m up. Lemme just put on some pants and I’ll go.” He makes an attempt to get up, but Seokmin pushes him back down to a sitting position with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Did you just tell me that you’re gonna go out like _this?_ ” Seokmin grabs the sleeve of his ratty t-shirt disdainfully, scoffing. “Wonwoo, you ignored Chan for a _year_. I’m not letting you go on a date with him when you’re dressed like my grandfather when he’s too lazy to look decent. Get up. I’m intervening.” He swats at Wonwoo until he stands, whisking himself off to Wonwoo’s closet and rooting through it rather furiously. Wonwoo stumbles on his feet slightly, falling back down to a seated position, though he stops himself from lying down under the watchful eye of his roommate. 

“But he’s my soulmate. He shouldn’t care,” Wonwoo repeats a conversation that they’ve had a million times before, ignoring the exasperated scoff that Seokmin emits. He doesn’t mean to sound petulant but the clock on the wall says 6:30 and if Wonwoo remembers correctly, his date starts at 7:00. Which means he has approximately 15 more minutes to bemoan the fact that he regrets wanting to go at all. He’d accepted this date on a whim, spurred on and inspired by the concept of having someone to be by his side when Seokmin would inevitably leave him for the heliotrope fucker. But lo and behold, Seokmin and Clock-Eyes decided to take it slow in hopes of cultivating a truly strong relationship or whatever. 

Which meant Seokmin was still his roommate, and Wonwoo did not want to go on this date. 

Except now Seokmin’s _invested_ , and nothing ever ends well when Seokmin’s _invested._ “Look, don’t you want to make a good first impression?” He chucks a few articles of clothing at Wonwoo, and Wonwoo raises a hand just in time to stop a belt from whipping him in the eye. He shoots a glare and Seokmin turns a blind eye. 

“We’ve known each other for years!” Wonwoo complains, nevertheless jamming his foot into a pant leg. He’s starting to think that maybe Seokmin’s plan is to get Wonwoo to move in with Chan so that he can get Twinkle Toes to move in with him instead. 

“But this is your first official date as soulmates. Trust me, it’s special,” Seokmin pleads and begins to reminisce, getting that dreamy look in his eyes that Wonwoo recognizes as Seokmin thinking about that Soonshit guy– not to mention the dull glow of his soulmark. Now it’s Wonwoo’s turn to scoff. 

“Wasn’t your first date at the fricken McDonald’s down the road? Nothing spells romance like the McDonald’s Breakfast Menu.” Even so, Wonwoo finishes buttoning up his dress shirt and fixing his hair in the mirror. 

Seokmin doesn’t grace him with a reply as he shoves him out the door.  
 

* * *

   
Wonwoo arrives about 5 minutes late despite all of Seokmin’s yelling and prompting. 

If he thinks of it positively, at least he wasn’t 10 or more minutes late. Hopefully Chan won’t let Seokmin know about it. He doesn’t wanna get kicked out just yet. 

The restaurant he arrives at is much fancier than he had banked on a 19-year-old being able to afford. He feels a little out of place amongst all the people in full on suits and gowns, having put on a pair of his nicer jeans and a relatively new dress shirt for the occasion. After taking a few minutes to collect himself enough to enter the restaurant, he talks to the maitre d’ about the reservation, and is lead to a nice table that overlooks the sea. 

God, Chan had really gone all out. He’s starting to feel a little bad about half-assing it. He feels the need to apologize to the boy but oddly enough, Chan isn’t at the table, so Wonwoo only takes a seat and waits for him awkwardly. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns, thinking it’s Chan. 

“I think your boyfriend is in the bathroom,” says a woman at the table next to theirs who is decidedly not his date. Wonwoo smiles even though he’s sure it’s a bit strained, but doesn’t bother correcting her. The last thing this stranger needs to know is his weird and complicated history with Chan.

“Wonwoo!” He turns to face forwards again and is greeted with the smiling face of his soulmate. 

Now, he’d heard from Seokmin and had seen a bit on SNS about how Chan had basically become a different person in a year, but he’d never really believed it, but now that he's sitting and looking at him from about a meter away, he understands what all of Jeonghan’s fussing was about. 

Chan has _grown._

What had been a gangly boy with a youthful smile only accentuated by noticeable baby fat still left in his cheeks, and spiky hair that made him vaguely resemble a duck, had now amassed to a stocky young man with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, well-styled hair, and… Well, he still had the same smile. Wonwoo recalled always liking Chan’s smi–

_Wonwoo, stop! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts. Have some resolve._

“Of course, you choose to arrive when I’m not even at the table. Just my luck, eh?” Chan immediately starts to ramble, clearly feeling a little flustered. Wonwoo found the bumbling demeanor of the young boy to properly reflect his age, whilst also offering a stark contrast to his newly aged looks. _Some resolve._ Wonwoo can already feel it crumbling apart.

Chan seats himself in a way that Wonwoo can only determine to be _graceful._ Perhaps it was the dancer in him that attributed to the way he executed every action smoothly, and Wonwoo doesn’t even realize it when he starts to stare. It’s only when Chan noticeably coughs to garner Wonwoo’s attention, a hand flying up to his hair in concern. “Uh, is there something wrong with my hair or? You keep staring.” Wonwoo, ever the smooth human being, shakes his head fervently, pointing towards the old man dining at the table behind Chan.  
  
“I was just looking at the thing that guy is eating? Looks delicious!” Wonwoo’s never sounded more excited for food in his life, and Chan looks suspicious. He looks over his shoulder to the man’s meal.

“Wonwoo, aren’t you allergic to shrimp?” Fuck his life. Wonwoo is sure he must have murdered a baby in his past life to be on the receiving end of such embarrassment. As usual, he tries to break the awkward atmosphere with a joke.

“If I was, I wouldn’t be on a date with you, right?” If anything, the atmosphere intensifies. Wonwoo can’t even stop himself from cringing, and neither does Chan. He tries playing it off with a few small chuckles, but those quickly trail off into silence.

On further revision, Wonwoo must have murdered _two_ babies in his past life to be on the receiving end of such embarrassment.

But then _, but then_ , Chan saves him. He saves him with genuine laughter and that goddamned smile that Wonwoo likes so much. It’s that laugh that Chan does with his full body, eyes crinkling in the corners and head rocking back. “Wonwoo, your jokes are the fucking worst.” And yeah, Wonwoo’s a little bit offended, but he takes the insult over the feeling of wanting to dig his own grave any day. He plays along.

“It’s only because I have nobody to practice them on. Seokmin doesn’t give me the time of day. Even less now that he’s found that dancer fella.” He belatedly realizes that his internalized habit of not

“Dancer fella?”

“Uh yeah, that heliotrope fucker? I forgot his name.”

“You mean _Soonyoung_?" 

“Yeah, him.”

Chan lets out that brilliant laugh again, and Wonwoo figures that maybe he’s doing something right. He’s about to continue when the waitress arrives by their table.

Chan orders a food that sounds very complicated and just as expensive as Wonwoo tries to find the cheapest item on the menu. That item turns out to be a salad, and since he doesn’t hate himself quite enough to order a salad and nothing else at a restaurant, he picks a simple steak. The waitress gives them a time estimate for their food before she walks back off. 

“So,” Chan starts, smiling warmly at Wonwoo. “You look nice.” Now Wonwoo _knows_ Chan is lying to him, or at least trying to butter him up for a second date. Wonwoo looks okay at best. He chuckles, ducking his head a bit before looking up.

“Thanks. Seokmin helped me out. I don’t think he really knew where we were going.” He looks back up at Chan, smiling sheepishly and adjusting the collar of his shirt. 

“Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Well, not really _forgot_ actually. I wanted to surprise you. The food here is amazing, but I guess it might've been a better idea to bring you somewhere less intense for a first date.” Chan looks like he feels bad about this whole situation, smile significantly duller than it had been a moment ago, and Wonwoo feels really bad all of a sudden. Chan had gone out of his way to try to make this night memorable after Wonwoo had been an asshat to him for a year. He backpedals quickly.

“No, no, it's fine, really. The atmosphere is super nice and--” He stops himself from saying ‘and you look like a whole meal’ because _he needs to keep his resolve, fuck._ “And the staff is nice.” _Saved it._

Chan doesn't question when he would've spoken to the staff, and Wonwoo sighs in relief. 

“How have you been?” Chan asks. “We haven't really talked much. I've missed it.” Chan's voice is small, and Wonwoo feels awful. He never really did think about what it must've been like for Chan during all this. The fact that he still wants to try to be with Wonwoo is baffling, but maybe that's why they were paired up. Chan persevered where Wonwoo gave up. 

“I've been good.” Wonwoo pauses for a moment, wanting to say that he missed Chan, too, but it sounds insincere in his head. It was he that cut off contact with Chan in the first place. “You?”

 “Absolutely terrible,” Chan replies in an instant, with a face so deadpan it throws Wonwoo off guard. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. “It’s because of you. Did you know that I’ve cried every day since you rejected me?” Wonwoo chokes on air because of the sudden confession, thoughts scrambling in his head as he tries to think up an adequate response to… that.

Before he can say just about anything, or get on his knees and start to apologize, the waitress returns and gives them their meals. They both thank her as she hurries to another table, Chan immediately digging into his meal. Wonwoo’s still staring at him wide-eyed, not even bothering to pick up his chopsticks. He’s still trying to process what Chan said. 

When Chan finally notices, he uses his chopsticks to pick up a piece of meat and holds it out for Wonwoo. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t just want the salad. To be honest, I was surprised you ordered it. What, you think I couldn’t afford it?” Chan pouts as he rambles, leaving Wonwoo bewildered.

Wonwoo pushes Chan’s chopsticks away from his face. “Wha- what? No! Are we both just going to ignore the fact that you said you’ve cried every day since I rejected you?” Wonwoo’s voice is perhaps a little too loud because the man eating seafood shushes him. He ignores it. “I knew I was awful to you but shit, now I just feel like the biggest jerk in the world.”

“Oh that? I was _kidding_ ,” Chan laughs, though he trails off once he realizes Wonwoo’s not joining him. There’s silence. “Aren’t you following me on Instagram? Yeah, I was sad, but I worked out a lot because of it and started taking dance more seriously too. Perhaps it was a good thing you rejected me.” More silence. “O-only at first though! I would hate for you to walk away now…” Chan shuts up because Wonwoo’s staring at him as if he just called his mother a cow and Chan’s not quite sure why. After a few seconds (a few seconds that feel like a few hours), Wonwoo finally lets out a harsh whisper.

“You fucker.” And then something happens that Chan didn’t think he would ever see in his… Well, his lifetime, if he was being honest with himself:

Wonwoo starts to cry.

Chan’s only ever heard of such an occurrence from Seokmin, arguably Wonwoo’s closest friend and the only person Wonwoo was completely vulnerable with; needless to say, Chan was a little jealous.

Wonwoo doesn’t cry big tears or with heavy sobs, he cries just as silently and subtly as he does everything else, with small tears welling up in the corner of eyes before they start trickling down. Chan, not used to seeing Wonwoo so emotional, can’t help but stare in awe. “Won...woo?”

“You _fucker_. Do you know how awful I felt for a moment?” Chan doesn’t get the chance to answer as Wonwoo tacks on another sentence. “No, do you know how I awful I felt for this past _year?_ Don’t joke around like that!”

It’s a simple sentence, but it leaves Chan shocked. And then it makes Chan _angry_ , because no no no, that can’t be true and he knows Wonwoo must be lying to him because it doesn’t make any sense at all and words are flying out of Chan’s mouth before he can stop them.

“How awful _you_ felt? Do you always sound so selfish? You weren’t the one to have your heart ripped in two by the same guy you were in love with since middle school!” It was never Chan’s plan to pour his heart out to Wonwoo on their first date together as soulmates but shit, he’s used to life not going the way he planned it to.

“The one guy that you thought you had no chance with but then it’s your birthday and _bam_ , turns out you have the same soulmark and you become so excited for something you should’ve known would never work.” Chan’s voice starts to lose its anger and conviction, and he hates himself for how small and tired he starts to sound. “And when he rejects you, he cuts off all contact with you and distances himself so much that your soulmark burns in agony every time you so much as see an SNS update from the guy.

And you think _you_ felt awful?”

Then Chan starts to cry a little, too, and he knows that the people dining around them are all staring and whispering quietly at the two idiots crying at their table but he can’t find himself to care. “You know what, I’m out of here.” Chan takes out his wallet, yanking out a few bills before slapping them on the table. He gets up before Wonwoo can say a word, running out of the restaurant.   
  


* * *

  
Life goes on as usual.

Flowers bloom and stars explode, and Chan is just as much a stranger as usual.

Wonwoo doesn't think he's cut out for fairytale endings, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all probably came here for fluff but apparently that's not what we're doing. We just _might_ be doing a Wonchan spin off, based on your input of course. If you guys comment that you want it then we'll be highly considering it and if not... Well, this is what happens lol.
> 
> As for the other pairings?? Let's just say you guys have a thing or two to look forward to ^^ (or three, if we're being exact).
> 
> Fae + Belle


	4. of begonias and yellow roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minghao is w h i p p e d.

Mingyu has always wanted a dog.

 

From when he was just a young kid, it had always been his dream to own a playful puppy that he could go on runs with, and use to attract pretty girls.

 

Currently, the second part of his childhood ambition is entirely unnecessary, as Minghao would definitely take some issue with Mingyu picking up women when they've been dating for around 4 years. But that hasn't stopped Mingyu from wanting a dog in the slightest. His boyfriend, on the other hand, is a cat person to the core, which is disappointing to say the very least. Apparently, the soulmarks didn't take that into account when they paired him with the pretty transfer student all those years ago.

 

Despite this, life goes on, though a life without a dog seems much duller than a life with a dog.

 

One evening, after watching a 3-hour special on dogs with jobs (and not leaving the couch for a second over the course of those hours), Mingyu finally cracks.

 

“Minghao, can we get a dog?” Mingyu asks, looking over at his boyfriend hopefully.

 

Minghao glances up from his phone, giving Mingyu a look.  _ That  _ look.

 

“Seriously, ‘Gyu? This again?” Minghao sounds unamused.

 

Okay, so maybe it hadn't been the first time he'd asked. Maybe it was the 7th time. Not that he was counting.

 

“Please?” Mingyu whines, laying down across the couch so his head rests in his boyfriend's lap. “I promise I'll take good care of it. I wanna adopt a dog with you, Minghao.” He's pouting now, waiting for Minghao to look down at him. 

 

Fingers gently thread through Mingyu’s hair, and he hears a sigh from above as Minghao puts his phone down on the arm of their couch. “You said that last month, babe, and when we went to the shelter you cried twice and couldn't pick so we left.” His long fingers massage Mingyu’s scalp softly in a way he likes, and Mingyu gets a bit more comfortable before continuing to complain.

 

“That was just because you weren't helping!” He frowns up at Minghao. “If you had helped I wouldn't have been so hard for me.”

 

Minghao rolls his eyes, patting Mingyu’s cheek lightly. “Maybe you just need to be more decisive.” He says, and Mingyu scoffs.

 

“I am so decisive. I am the most decisive man alive. How dare you?” Mingyu sits up and narrows his eyes at his boyfriend, who looks like he's trying really hard not to laugh at him. 

 

“Mingyu, just last week you took half an hour to pick a drink at a café. You let 20 people go ahead of you in line.” Minghao is smiling, and Mingyu flicks him. 

 

“Can we please go again? I really want one.” He grabs Minghao's hand between two of his and shakes it back and forth. “Pleeeeeeeease.” 

 

Minghao is staring at him again, but he just looks fond now, and Mingyu knows he's broken his resolve.

 

“Fine. We can get a dog.” His boyfriend says, smiling at him. “But you're cleaning it’s shit, okay?” 

 

Mingyu is overjoyed, wrapping his arms around Minghao in a rather crushing hug. “I love you so much, thank you!” Mingyu says, grinning into Minghao's bony shoulder. “You're the best boyfriend in history. People will write tales of your selflessness.” Minghao laughs quietly at the ridiculous statement, kissing Mingyu’s temple.

 

“We can go to the shelter again tomorrow if you want.” Minghao says. “I can help, too, if you really want me to.” 

 

“I’d like that.” Mingyu says, pulling away from the hug, taking Minghao's hand instead.

 

“It's a date.” Minghao says, leaning over for a quick kiss.

 

God, is Mingyu ever in love.

 

* * *

 

Minghao is decidedly much less excited about the dog than his boyfriend. It's not that he dislikes them entirely, but they aren't his first choice of pet either. Sure, they're cute, but he'd much rather a cat, or a bird, or something more low maintenance. Something like that ironically named striped fish Spotty that Soonyoung was always going on about (or was it an ironically-named spotted fish, Stripy? Oh, who gave a fuck? Now his soulmate would be the one who had to put up with his rambling). Dogs were just… too much. 

 

Unfortunately for Minghao, he crumbles  _ very _ easily to the whims of his boyfriend when said whims are not expensive. Sure, Minghao can say no to a 8,500,000 won watch with ease, but when it comes to a living, breathing, relatively inexpensive to obtain creature, one that Mingyu is extremely adamant about getting, too, it gets harder. Once Mingyu starts pouting, Minghao has passed the point of no return.

 

Mingyu will be the death of him, he's absolutely sure of it.

 

They get up early to go to the shelter, because even though Mingyu keeps saying that he won't take long, Minghao knows this will be an all-day trip.

 

Mingyu is buzzing with excitement as he drives them over to the shelter, and Minghao has to remind him a few times to focus on the road. It's cute, and Minghao has always liked seeing him happy.

 

Minghao gets out by the door of the building while Mingyu pays for parking, his boyfriend linking an arm through his, and eagerly pulling the younger man inside.

 

The smell is...not good. Mingyu doesn't seem to be minding it much, but Minghao is taking every opportunity he can to bury his face in Mingyu’s shirt sleeve.

 

A pleasant-looking woman at the front desk greets them with a genuine smile and chirpy voice that suggests she doesn’t actually hate her job as much as Minghao might have expected her to. Minghao, who considers himself a smidge better than Mingyu’s older brother and isn’t a  _ total  _ dick when he doesn’t need to be, tries his best to smile back. She starts to greet them when Mingyu cuts her off, manners lost in his excitement.

 

“We’re looking for a dog! Preferably a big one, approximately–” Mingyu stretches out his arms as wide as he can, “–yea big.” 

 

Minghao, who was about to scold Mingyu for his rudeness to the woman at the front desk, chooses instead to just stare incredulously at Mingyu. They didn’t agree on finding a dog the size of a full grown fuckin’  _ eagle’s wingspan _ . Before Minghao can say anything, the lady in front of them giggles at his boyfriend’s excitement and points them towards the dog section. Mingyu hops away eagerly, Minghao reluctantly trailing behind him. 

 

“Mingyu,” Minghao hisses quietly, trying not to draw attention to his current anxious state. Mingyu looks at him questioningly. “I thought we agreed on a medium-sized dog at best,” he starts carefully, not wanting to upset the big guy. Mingyu could be sensitive sometimes. 

 

“ _ I know _ , but then I saw  _ that _ dog,” He points at a large cage near the front of the hallway, pulling Minghao over to it eagerly. “We need to get him. Or her. I'm not really sure about that.” 

 

The dog in question could only be described as  _ monstrous, _ as though Zeus himself, doing his typical, everyday, creepy bestiality thing, had mated with a dog and formed this titan of a creature. 

 

Mingyu coos at the dog happily from the front of the cage, and it warily trots over to see him, sniffing at his fingers curiously. 

“It says her name is Daisy.” Minghao says, looking at the laminated sheet of paper taped to the wall by her cage. “A Saint Bernard.” His eyes fall on her weight and he once again wonders why he let himself be dragged into this. “Mingyu, she’s 200 pounds. That's more than either of us.” 

 

“So?” He replies, as though getting crushed is not an issue at all. Minghao is admittedly pretty skinny despite how much he works out, and a massive dog jumping on him and breaking both his legs is the last thing he needs. 

 

Mingyu is pouting now, and Minghao tries to stay stoic. 

 

“At least look at the other dogs first? Please?” Minghao eventually says. God, he's weak. He glares down at the soulmark on his wrist and shakes his head, remembering a time when he could even shoot Mingyu down without a second thought.

 

This placates Mingyu enough to get him to stand up, though he hears his boyfriend whispering a promise to the dog about coming back for her. Minghao sighs, taking his hand and pulling him further down the hall.

 

* * *

 

Mingyu stops at Every. Single. Cage.

 

Minghao swears he's seen every size, every breed, and every colour of dog by the time they've reached the last one. All of them had been cute to some degree, but this really isn't his decision as much as it is Mingyu’s.

 

“So,” He starts. “which one?” 

 

Mingyu’s eyes light up and Minghao knows exactly which one he wants.

 

“Daisy.” His boyfriend says immediately, grinning even though Minghao probably looks like he's dying. “Please, ‘Hao? She'll be so good. I'll take her for long walks, and we can go to the dog park together, and I'll feed her and bathe her.” He squeezes Minghao's hand. “Please?” 

 

He caves.

 

“Fine.” He sighs out, and Mingyu lets out a joyed yelp of sorts.

 

_ ‘A massive dog for a massive idiot.’ _ Minghao thinks as they walk/run back over to her cage. Mingyu tells her happily that she's gonna come home with them, and she licks his hand. Mingyu is positively beaming at this point, heading over to the woman at the front desk to tell her they've (Mingyu has) made their (his) choice.

 

She seems surprised with the decision, but doesn't say anything, handing them the proper paperwork and a pen. They'll be able to pick her up tomorrow when they've brought a leash and finished signing everything.

 

They thank her, taking the papers and carrying them to their car.

 

“We're getting a dog.” Mingyu says as soon as they get in, giddy. 

 

“Yup.” Minghao replies, smiling at him. “You're filling out this paperwork, though. It's gonna be your dog.” 

 

“It's  _ our _ dog. Daisy is basically our daughter now, Minghao.” Mingyu says matter-of-factly. Minghao tries not to blush as his brain travels to a future where they have actual  _ human _ kids.

 

“Okay. I'm still not doing the paperwork, though.” He says, looking out the window as Mingyu begins to drive them home.

 

* * *

 

The very next day they are back at the shelter, and by 2 o’clock there's a beast of a dog in their backseat, Mingyu beaming brightly from the front. 

 

“I love you.” He says to Minghao, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. Minghao shoves him lightly.

 

“Cheesy.” He teases, but Mingyu’s grin remains strong. 

 

“Daisy, doesn't ‘Hao love me a lot? He let me get you even though he doesn't like dogs.” Daisy just lays down, her head on her paws, but Mingyu seems to take her ‘nodding’ as she tries to get comfortable on her feet as an agreement. “She's so smart!” He praises, reaching over to rub her head before starting the car carefully and backing out of the parking space.

 

Once they're on the road, Mingyu takes a hand off the wheel to lace his fingers with Minghao's.

 

“Thank you.” He whispers, smiling softly though his eyes are on the road.

 

“No problem.” Minghao replies.

 

* * *

 

That night, after Mingyu passes out on their bed, Daisy at his feet, Minghao walks over to his dresser.

 

He sits down on the floor, opening one of the drawers carefully and rooting through it until he finds what he's looking for, pulling it out.

 

The small blue velvet box is a pleasant weight in his hand, and he looks between it and his boyfriend for a moment before putting it away again.

  
_ ‘Someday.’ _ Minghao thinks, climbing back into bed and wrapping an arm around Mingyu, falling asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We saw Seventeen!!!!!  
> It was life changing 3 members (chan!!!!!!!, mingyu!!, and seungkwan!!) looked right at me (fae) and a bitch cried. Best day of our lives. They were cute and sappy but also kept throwing shade so I would like to give a big, important reminder.
> 
> Don't mob artists at the airport.
> 
> Anyways.
> 
> This chapter is a nice fluffy reminder that we love love and the angst will predominantly be wonchan related. 
> 
> We hope you all enjoy!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡
> 
> Fae + Belle


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